About a Free Elf
by Nessie - Pillow Biting Monster
Summary: A post HP and the Deathly Hallows one-shot and a tribute to Dobby, the House Elf and Harry's good friend. It's a small snapshot of Albus's  Harry's son  early childhood and how he got to know about Dobby and his relationship with Harry.


About A Free Elf

Spending time with the whole family at the same time wasn't easy. Being part Weasley on its own was hard enough. No matter how hard I tried, I'd never manage to learn our whole family tree by heart. It was impossible. According to Dad, the names of all the members of our family were more than all the goblins who fought in the goblin rebellions. I was only ten still, so there was no way to know; I haven't been taught History of Magic. Aunt Hermione always said I could start reading a little earlier to be more prepared for when I get there, but well… there was _no_ way I was opening a history book with my own free will. That was my cousin Rose, not me.

This year, we had split winter break in four parts. We spent the first part in our home at Grimmauld Place 12, then the second one at the Burrow with Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur. Right now we were in the beginning of the second week of winter break and until New Year's Eve we'd stay at the Shell Cottage, with Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill.

I loved their house. It was more roof than walls, that was a fact, but it still managed to look wonderful. It was near the shore, so close that walking out the porch you could smell the salty water and if it was windy, sand would actually get in your eyes.

Mum and Dad were in the kitchen with Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur, drinking Fire Whiskey and laughing loudly. Lilly was already upstairs, in the attic – the room she, Victoire and Dominique shared – sleeping soundly. I had curled on the couch, wrapping myself around a warm blanket, reading one of my favorite books – Silvio Tizzle and the Laughing Giant. Sadly, I came to the conclusion that I wouldn't get past the middle of the page though. My brother, James, made sure I read the same line for the last ten minutes.

Our oldest cousin, Victoire, was sitting cross-legged in front of the burning fireplace. She was in the middle of her sixth year at Hogwarts, which meant she knew spells so advanced that my head hurt just by listening to them. She had the annoying tendency of applying silencing and shielding charms around the fireplace and herself every time she wanted to talk to someone through the Floo Network – the closest thing the Shell Cottage had to a telephone. The irony was that she was talking to Teddy Lupin.

His parents had died in the battle of Hogwarts and he lived with his grandma, Andromeda, since then, but with Dad being his godfather, he spent a ridiculously big amount of time at our house. He practically lived in Grimmauld Place 12. Even Kreacher, our house elf, listened to him. Most of the time.

Anyway, I couldn't understand what the big deal was and Victoire had to make sure James and I didn't hear what she was telling Teddy. The worst we could do would be to say hi as well.

James kept saying stupid jokes to Victoire, knowing that her silencing charm just kept us from listening to what _she _was saying. My brother was a known troublemaker and prankster. I was sure he could practically pull pranks to someone until this someone dropped dead. _I_ was unfortunately his most common victim.

"Hey, Victoire, listen to another one," he said, grinning mischievously. I knew his goal. To annoy our cousin so much she'd just give up and leave the room. I wouldn't mind too much. The charms she had cast were keeping the fireplace's heat from spreading around the room among other things. I was freezing. "What does the Hippogriff tell the Hippopotamus?"

No surprise to the fact that Victoire didn't even glance over her shoulder to look at my brother.

"He says: 'Hey, _cuz_!' Get it? _Cuz_." James laughed at his own stupid joke.

"That wasn't really funny, James," I said honestly. "I think you're running out of good things to say."

"If Vickie wasn't monopolizing the fireplace, I'd talk to Fred to refresh my sense of humor!" he groaned and fell heavily on the couch, landing on my outstretched legs.

"Ouch!" I yelped in surprise, and curled my legs closer to my body. James sprawled on the couch, where seconds before my feet were, and placed his sand-filled shoes next to my face. I pushed them back to the floor and stood up, annoyed beyond measure. "One of those days, you've got to learn where to stop," I mumbled.

James shook his head and grinned widely, proud that he finally got the couch all to himself. He could have it, it was no fun without any warmth and the crackling of the wood coming from the fireplace anyway.

"Hey!" James yelled at me the moment I turned my back to him. "Forget something?" He held my book up high and waved it impatiently. I hurried to get it from his hands before he tried doing anything funny for him, but not so funny for my book. I glared at him and headed for the kitchen. "What?" James asked behind me, as if he felt I was being unfairly bothered from his behavior.

I crossed my arms over my chest and placed the book on the kitchen table, missing by inches mom's glass filled with Fire Whiskey. I stared at the wooden boards of the floor, barely realizing that as soon as I'd come in, everyone had fallen silent. I felt Mum's hand wrapping around my shoulder and bringing me closer. Dad leaned closer to Mum to take a closer look at me. Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill's eyes were pinned on me as well.

"Al, honey, what happened?" Mum asked.

"What do you think?" I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

"What did James say to you this time?" Dad asked, sighing. I hated being the little brother. James constantly picked on me and tried his brand new pranks on me. I felt like a rat in a Transfiguration classroom. About to be hit with a spell, that could possibly blow me up. And I could do nothing about it other than ignore him. And when I got blown up after all, all I could do was go ahead and complain to Mum and Dad.

"He didn't say anything _to _me. He just kicked me out of the couch."

"Me and him are going to have a talk quite soon," Dad said, more to himself than to me and straightened his round glasses, a habit he had since I could remember myself.

"It's okay. He hardly ever listens anyway." I shrugged.

"Well, this doesn't mean anything. He has to realize this is not fun anymore," Mum said, stroking my hair. "If talk doesn't make the trick, be sure he is going to wake up with some big donkey ears one day and won't manage to get them off until he finally gets him." Mum had that half-joking, half-terrifying look that was just like Grandma Molly's. I didn't want to be around if she ever decided to give James a pair of dokey ears for real.

Uncle Billy laughed loudly and leaned back on his chair. "If you ever do that, Gins, take a picture." He raised his glass and sipped the last of his Fire Whiskey. "I bet his cousin Freddy and his daddy would like to see," he continued and wink in a conspiring way to Mum.

Dad stood up and stretched his hands over his head. Then, pushing me gently along, he made his way out of the kitchen while saying, "Al and I are going for a walk, alright?"

Things hadn't changed much since I'd left the room. Victoire was still talking with Teddy and James was bombarding her with his ridiculous jokes. Apparently, he had run out of magical ones, because he was beginning to use his supply of blonde jokes, just to tick our cousin off, who was a natural blonde, just like her mother.

Dad tsk_ed_ in disapproval. "James? What have we told about these jokes?"

James sighed and fell silent, putting on his angel smile. Translation: _I'll wait until you leave before I start again, daddy._

"By the way," Dad started saying, half-grinning, "I thought you were going to go to sleep early to start your Potions paper tomorrow morning. If you're so restless, you could perhaps work on it now."

James suddenly sat up. "Nah… Now that you mentioned it, I feel somewhat tired now. I am going to bed right away!" And with a flash, he vanished in the kitchen, to wish Mum goodnight.

"This always works," Dad whispered to himself, chuckling. We walked to the front door and he stepped outside. I looked for a second, not thinking of what I should do. "Don't you want to take a walk with me?" he asked.

Just then I realized why we'd walked all the way to the door. "Oh, yeah, sure. Let me get my coat." I was about to hurry inside and get it, when it neatly came and landed on top of my head.

Dad smiled as I took it from there and slid my hands into the sleeves. "There you go."

"Thanks."

I noticed how he didn't hide away his wand again, but instead held it in his right hand and too silently for me to catch, he whispered a spell and a bluish light came from the tip of it. The waves were making a soft whooshing sound as they covered most of the beach and the sand crunched underneath our feet. We walked in complete silence for a while, until we were so far away from the house, that if Dad wasn't using his wand as a flashlight, I'd probably not know which way was back. When dad thought we'd walked far enough, he finally stopped. My feet were feeling somewhat shore, so I felt really glad about that. I liked riding a broom around much better.

To my surprise, Dad leaned forward and knelt in front of a small bump where there was no sand, but dry and hard soil. I noticed that little stones were placed in a formation, shaping a square. There was a wider stone, placed on the one side, with something scratched on it. I had a hard time making out what it was in the dim light, so I observed our surroundings instead.

It dawned on me, that I knew where we were, more or less. This wasn't too far from the garden of the Shell Cottage, where we usually sat in the afternoon to have some tea. The place was surrounded by bushes, their leaves now yellow and wrinkled from the cold. There was something sad about this spot, but I couldn't quite place my finger on what it was.

"Dad?" I asked, glancing at the dark, night sky for a second. The little silver stars reflected on his glasses as he looked up at me.

"Hmm?"

"What is here?"

"Here," he croaked and took a second to clear his throat; then he continued, "Here, is where a beloved friend of mine lies." He brought the wand closer to the round stone, so that I could make out my Dad's scratchy handwriting clearly now.

HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF, it said.

I looked up at Dad. "He was the reason your Aunt Hermione started caring about the way magical creatures were treated. Hadn't it been him and his free spirit, she'd probably never even tried to get a job at the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

I sat on the cold ground and observed what I now knew that was a grave quietly. I guessed Dad didn't just walk with me all this way into the chilly night to tell me why my aunt worked in the Ministry of Magic.

"He was also the reason I ever had to try Skele-Gro in my life." I remembered Roxanne, Uncle George and Aunt Angelina's daughter, having to drink it earlier this Christmas, when Fred, her twin sister and James's partner in crime, was practicing on a spell and accidentally made a bone on her leg vanish. James who had stopped by their house, said it didn't seem pleasant. I wondered what Dobby could have done for Dad to be forced to drink Skele-Gro to go back to normal.

"He was trying to warn me that I was in danger in my second year. I didn't listen. Dobby had a unique way of making me listen while he was still a servant to the Malfoy's."

"Who are they?" I inquired.

"Remember that Slytherin I told you that used to pick on me when I first went to Hogwarts?" I nodded. "That, was Draco Malfoy." I nodded again, understanding.

"Dobby saw no other way of making me leave Hogwarts and remain safe, so he made a bludger follow me around the Quidditch pitch in a match, until it finally hit my arm. Then my Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, who was not a good wizard at all, made the whole bone soft like rubber."

"Yickes," was all I managed, and looked at the inscription on the stone again curiously. "How could he be your friend then, if he broke your arm?"

Dad's lips curled to a faint smile. "His intentions were good, even though I couldn't see it back then. At the end of the year, I tricked his master into freeing Dobby. Do you know how to free a House Elf?"

"Sure," I said. "Mom has told me a bunch of times. You just give him a piece of clothing."

"Right. Draco's father gave to Dobby one of my socks by accident. Since then, Dobby always came to me when I needed help; even when I didn't know it. At some point, he even went to Hogwarts to work. Of course, he asked for a wage; nothing too crazy, he just seeked the benefits of his newly gained freedom.

"Your aunt Hermione decided to free _all_ elves in Hogwarts and knit socks, gloves, scarves and other things and hid them around for that purpose, until no elf other than Dobby cleaned our dorm anymore."

"That was nice of him," I agreed.

"And when I was in danger… He came. He always came. In the end, he was hit by something that was meant for me. I wish I could have saved him.

"He was one of the kindest and bravest people I'd known, Albus. I wish he was still here so that you could meet him."

"He is," I said, lifting my shoulders. "I don't mean there." I touched the grave and shook my head. "I mean there." Then I stretched and pointed at Dad's chest. "From what you said, it's like I got to meet him, almost. He must have been a really nice elf."

"Kreacher used to dislike him a lot. The got along eventually. Maybe he has a few more stories to tell you when we get back home."

"I'll make sure I ask him," I assured Dad. I wondered what he looked like. Was he like our Kreacher? With a curvy nose and old, runny eyes? Slowly, we started heading back again. "What did he look like?"

"Hmm… Let's see… He had very big, green eyes, big like tennis balls, and a thin spiky nose. He always wore your Aunt's clothes around, and he loved socks. He loved them so much, that he'd rather wear a sock from a pair on one foot, and a sock from another pair on the other foot. This way, he used to say, he could show to the people more of his socks at a time.

I giggled. "That actually makes sense."

"In its own way, it does." Dad nodded in agreement. "Mismatched clothing was his specialty in general actually."

"Dad? Did you ever say any of that to James?"

"No. He knows who Dobby is, but not so much about him… Not really."

"So is it like our secret?" I asked, my face lighting up.

"Yes. It's somewhat like our secret." And with that, we returned back to the cottage. Warmth filled me the moment I set my foot inside, and I knew Victoire was gone. Now, I had the fireplace all to myself. I sat on the couch and curled into a blanket, closing my eyes and thinking about Dobby, the free elf.


End file.
